


fling you down under me

by impertinency



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Fingerfucking, Half-Sibling Incest, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impertinency/pseuds/impertinency
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theon shows Jon and Robb where to put it. PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	fling you down under me

**Author's Note:**

> I....don't know how this happened? It started as a Jon/Robb fic with plot and feelings, but then Theon appeared and it turned into a story about Theon's need to have sex with everyone and his obsession with talking during sex. Oops?
> 
> Pretty much PWP set before the series begins and written for [this prompt](http://asoiafkinkmeme.livejournal.com/13533.html?thread=7854557#t7854557) on asoiafkinkmeme. Using the show ages/physical descriptions for obvious reasons. Title from one of James Joyce's dirty letters to his wife Nora. You can find them [here](http://loveletters.tribe.net/thread/fce72385-b146-4bf2-9d2e-0dfa6ac7142d) though they're definitely way more NSFW and way kinkier than this fic. Seriously. You've been warned.

Robb makes the most delicious moan when Theon slides a finger inside him. He’s tight and hot and slick, and Theon pushes his finger in a little further, applying just enough pressure to make Robb shudder and gasp beneath him. Theon enjoys having Robb like this, enjoys bending him over the bed so that his face is buried in the furs, enjoys fucking him until he’s loose and pliant, enjoys making him squirm and beg and lose control. 

He places his free hand on Robb’s hip to steady himself and digs his fingernails in deep enough to leave marks on Robb’s pale skin. He hopes the marks will turn to bruises by tomorrow. Hopes that Robb will look at the bruises on his hips and thighs and remember who put them there. 

“Does it feel good, Stark?” he asks. He adds another finger, working Robb open slowly, and grins when Robb moans and rocks back against his fingers.

“Stop teasing and get on with it,” Robb says. There’s a hint of warning in his tone, but Theon brushes it aside. He’s the one with the power right now, not Robb. 

“I don’t think so,” Theon says, grinning as he removes his fingers and then pushes back in, careful to keep his pace tortuously slow. “I think Snow is enjoying the show. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?”

Theon looks over at Jon who’s sitting on the far edge of the bed staring at them with dark eyes, his fingers wrapped loosely around his cock. There’s a dark bruise on his collarbone and a matching one on his hip. His dark curls are wild and messy, a few stray, sweaty locks plastered to his forehead. He looks utterly wanton, and Theon leers at him, makes sure to keep eye contact as he pumps his fingers inside Robb. He’s already had Jon once tonight - had taken him from behind while Robb had sucked him off. Had left him breathless and sated before turning his attention to Robb.

“He looks good like this, doesn’t he?” he asks as he slides his fingers out of Robb. He ignores Robb’s whine of protest and instead hooks one arm around Robb’s waist, yanking him upright so that Robb’s back is against his chest. Theon run his other hand across the swell of Robb’s ass, before moving to scrape his fingernails over the tender skin of Robb’s hip. Robb’s hiss of pain is soon swallowed by a breathless gasp of pleasure when Theon curls his hand around Robb’s cock, thumbing at the slit.

Robb jerks up into his hand with a shuddering moan, his head falling back against Theon’s shoulder. Jon twitches, as if he wants to go to Robb, but one look from Theon has him scowling and settling back on the bed. 

“Not yet, Snow. I don’t think Robb deserves to come quite so soon.”

“ _Theon_.” Robb’s voice is hoarse and needy and Theon knows he’s so, _so_ close to begging for release. 

“Keep your eyes on your brother,” he whispers. Theon grinds his cock against Robb’s hip as he bites down on his collarbone, sucking at the skin there until it’s red and swollen. He wants Robb and Jon to have matching marks, wants them both to remember that while they might like to spend most of their nights with each other, Theon’s the one who had them both first. He was the first person to curl a hand around Robb’s cock, the first person to teach Jon how to use those pretty lips of his. The one who discovered how sensitive Robb’s skin is, how aggressive Jon is when he fucks. 

Robb had come to him first, shy and unsure, too noble to find his release in the brothel and too curious about the stories he had overheard at feasts and in taverns. Jon had cornered him a few weeks later, sullen and ashamed but full of the same curiosity as his brother. 

Theon doesn’t know why he was surprised when he accidentally stumbled upon them together a month later. He’d always known that fucking one was the same as fucking the other. Robb and Jon are stupidly possessive of each other and wherever Robb goes, Jon isn’t far behind. Still, it hurt - it still hurts - to know that he’d been used as a substitute and cast aside when they had both found something better. Because for all their bravado and lust and eagerness, they’re both still terribly inexperienced. Without him, he thinks, they wouldn’t have even known how to get each other off.

“Do you like fucking your brother, Stark?” he asks, raising his voice so that both of them can hear. “I’ve seen you two together, you know. Seen the way you let Snow fuck you, the way you drop to your knees to take him into your mouth. Maybe I should make you suck his cock while I take you from behind. Would you like that? Knowing that you were being taken by your lord father’s bastard and ward?”

Robb lets out a choked moan and digs his fingers into Theon’s arm. “Theon, please,” he says. 

It’s _delicious_ , the way that Robb begs, the way that he arches into Theon’s touch. Theon keeps his eyes on Jon as he continues to lazily grind against Robb, watches how Jon’s pace increases as he strokes himself. _He’s mine_ , he wants to say. _I was here first._

“What do you think, Snow? Should I let him come or would you rather do the honors?”

“Stop teasing him, Greyjoy,” Jon says. 

Robb’s taut underneath his hands, whimpering whenever Theon thrusts against him or strokes his cock, and it’s enough to undo Theon. He does little more than groan out Robb’s name before he comes, splattering Robb’s backside and thighs with come. It should be embarrassing, he thinks, to have spent himself before he even entered Robb. But he can’t even bring himself to care. Not when Robb is still desperately begging for release, Theon’s seed a wet mess on his skin.

Robb seems to have forgotten about him as he turns toward Jon. That’s all it takes for Jon to scramble across the bed and toward Robb. Jon kisses Robb with such frenzied passion, almost as if he’s trying to consume him and make up for Theon’s lack of attention. Theon watches them as he lies back on the bed, watches the gentle - almost reverent - way that Jon touches Robb, the way Robb melts into his brother’s touch. 

Robb cards a hand through Jon’s hair, tugging on his curls as he murmurs, “Jon, please, I want you inside me.”

Jon groans and stills, leaning his forehead against Robb’s as he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, _yes_ , of course I’m sure,” he says, a trace of annoyance in his voice. 

Theon rolls his eyes. For all that these two claim to have wolf blood in their veins, they act like twittering maidens around each other, always with gentle touches and affectionate words. 

“Fuck your brother, Snow. After all, he asked so nicely.”

When Jon turns to glare at him, Theon smirks in amusement. “What, afraid of an audience? I gave you such a nice show earlier. The least you could do is return the favor. Let’s see if you can make him moan as much as I did.”

Jon’s scowl deepens, as it so often does when he’s around Theon, but whatever reply he intends to make is forgotten when Robb curls a hand around his neck and draws him into another kiss. He whispers something to Jon that Theon can’t hear, something that makes the muscles in Jon’s back relax and has him reaching for the jar of oil on the bedside table.

Theon watches the pleasure splash across Robb’s face when Jon finally enters him. Jon steadies himself with one hand against the bed frame and the other on Robb’s hip. Robb is no doubt still slick from earlier, a thought that makes Theon’s cock twitch with interest. He can’t deny that he enjoys watching the two together. Robb and Jon are attractive on their own, but they’re beautiful together, complementary even though they’re completely different in appearance. 

The way they move together is obscene, and Robb lets out a tiny whimper each time Jon rolls his hips and thrusts with more force. Jon presses himself closer to his brother, rakes his nails across Robb’s chest and buries his face in the hollow of Robb’s neck, his breath coming in harsh pants as he murmurs Robb’s name.

“Harder,” Robb says, spreading his legs a little wider and reaching back to fumble for Jon’s hand. He brings their entwined hands forward to circle his cock, heavy and flushed where it rests against his stomach.

“No,” Theon says suddenly. “You can hold out a little longer.”

Robb stills and stares at him wide, confused eyes. He’s so used to getting what he wants, to having more power than the two of them combined, that this lack of control must be killing him. It makes Theon feel ridiculously smug, to know that he’s the one calling all the shots.

“Not fair,” Robb says, whining. 

“Life’s not fair, Lord Stark,” he says, enjoying the way Robb’s eyes darken at the title, the way Jon’s next thrust is a little harsher.

“You should put your mouth to better use, Greyjoy,” Jon says. His voice is rough and curt, a sure sign that he’s struggling not to release.

Theon grins at him and crawls across the length of the bed until he’s kneeling before them. He brushes a hand through Robb’s curls almost carelessly before he leans up to pull Jon in for a kiss. Jon starts, caught off guard, and it takes a moment before he’s hesitantly kissing back. 

He and Jon don’t kiss. They fuck and frot and get each other off, but they don’t kiss. It’s an unspoken rule between them. But Theon enjoys throwing Jon off balance, enjoys messing up his worldview and changing the game.

Theon nips at Jon’s lower lip hard enough to break the skin, and Jon growls into his mouth and bites back, hard enough that he draws blood. Theon draws back and licks at it, grins when he sees the way Jon’s eyes follow the movement.

“Is that what you had in mind?” he asks.

“Not exactly,” Jon says, a small frown appearing on his lips. He looks like he’s about to say something else, so Theon leans forward and shuts him up by dragging his teeth along Jon’s jaw. It makes him hiss in pleasure and he brings his hand up to cup the back of Theon’s head, tangling his fingers in Theon’s short hair and pulling him closer.

Between them, Robb shifts and whines, though Theon’s not sure if he’s unhappy because he’s not the center of attention or because Theon is kissing Jon. He pulls away from Jon and sits back on his heels, reaching out to palm Robb’s cock. Robb lets out a sigh of relief when Theon wraps his fingers around Robb cock, running his fingers along the underside lightly. He presses a finger against the slit of Robb’s cock, laughing when Robb twitches with restrained pleasure. Theon knows Robb wants to come, but he’s too proud to continue begging.

Robb’s face is flushed and his hair is damp with sweat, his eyes wide and blissed out. He looks utterly wrecked, as he alternates between rocking back against Jon’s thrusts and fucking up into Theon’s hand.

Jon’s thrusts are becoming more erratic, his breathing more harsh, and Theon reaches out to place his other hand on Robb’s hip, pushing him back against Snow. It makes both of them groan in unison. He knows they’re both close. Can see it in the way Jon’s legs start to tremble, the way Rob jerks against his hand.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks. “Your brother fucking you while I jerk you off? I bet you like this. Like having us take care of you. Like letting us use you as we see fit. Maybe we’ll switch it around next time. I’ll fuck your pretty ass while Snow puts those lips of his to good use sucking your cock. Or maybe I’ll have you watch as Snow sucks my cock. Maybe, if you’re very good, I’ll even let you join in.”

Robb comes then, spilling hot and wet into Theon’s hand. His breathing is ragged and he slumps forward to rest against Theon’s shoulder. Theon looks up at Jon, who’s equally as flushed, and smirks as he raises his dirtied hand to his mouth, slowly licking Robb’s come off his fingers. Jon lets out something that’s half a moan, half a growl and comes, slumping boneless and breathless on top of Robb.

They stay there for awhile, Theon bearing the brunt of Robb and Jon on top of him. Jon’s sprawled across Robb, one hand lazily stroking up and down Robb’s back, while Robb snuffles contentedly into Theon’s neck, his hair tickling Theon’s cheek.

It’s comfortable and warm, and Theon is on the verge of falling asleep when he feels Robb stir against him. He opens his eyes to see Jon placing gentle kisses down the length of Robb’s back. Robb murmurs something that makes Jon laugh and Theon feels momentarily put out that he wasn’t let in on the joke.

But then Robb’s hand closes around Theon’s cock and he grins as he leans above him. “Don’t fall asleep yet, Theon. I believe you promised us another round.”


End file.
